


Tales Of Twilight

by chinarai



Category: Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, The Legend of Zelda
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-01-20 10:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1507166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chinarai/pseuds/chinarai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Princess of Light and the Hero of Twilight meet and love ensues. X: Take It Off: Link approached her slowly to give her a kiss and should have known something was off when he spotted her bare ankles and her feet clad in a pair of shoes she only wore on very special occasions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Apples

**Author's Note:**

> Little by little, I'll be moving my ongoing fanfics from ff.net to here; this is the second to come, and the first Zelda themed!

Hyrule Castle had as many secrets as Castle Town and Link had yet to find them all out. During his journey, on the one and only time he entered the castle accompanied by someone from another realm, he never noticed the paintings that hung on the walls nor the way the sunlight that seeped through the windows of the first room formed patterns on the polished floor, what with the adrenaline in his veins and the rush to get to the princess as soon as possible. But once he had the chance to walk around the castle at a much slower place, without the need to watch out for possible enemies and traps, he noticed all these things and much more.

The paintings on the wall were by far his favorite things to look at. He could wander about the hallways and maybe miss a step or two as he walked with his eyes fixed on the portraits of people and sceneries. He recognized the blue sky of Lake Hylia, the clear water of Zora’s Domain, the stones and ground of Kakariko Village and the trees from Faron Woods; there was even a painting of the small water wheel from his hometown and he always grinned at it, always happy to know that, even though Ordon was a small place, it was just as important to the kingdom as any other province.

But his favorite was the painting of the Crown Princess of Hyrule, the one that hung far, far from the throne room, the one that depicted her as the child she had once been. With large blue eyes and short, wavy brown hair, rounded nose and rosy cheeks, she was by far one of the prettiest children he had ever seen and by far one of the most attractive women in the kingdom. She lost all of her childish traits when puberty hit her, that much was clear. Her face was much thinner, eyes sharp and her nose was elegant. Her features screamed and slapped her title across his face ever so often; if royalty could have a face, it would probably be hers.

Zelda had yet to know that he had seen the portrait, but she probably was aware of it by now. Link had seen every inch and inspected every corner of her home, there was nothing that escaped his eyes.

Except, that is, for the small orchard in the southern courtyard that he rarely visited. And he only found out that the place existed when, one day, he tried to find the princess on her rest day but could not and no one better than Shad, who had grown close to the princess over the months, to know where she was. The scholar also said that he and Zelda hang about there to read their books and have their tea, away from most of the servants and knights, and Link smiled at that, gritting his teeth and feeling that spark of jealousy inside him. Shad was as out of her league as Link was, but he allowed himself to hope, even for a moment, that she could like him too.

What was it that he saw in her? He did not know. Link looked past the exterior, past the beauty, past her physical appearance and saw what she had to offer. She was loyal to her people and kingdom, kind, smart, selfless, friendly. There were so many traits, he could not pick only one.

The princess was as delicate as an apple blossom and he found it out on the first day he visited the orchard. There were not many things to see; a few misplaced rose bushes and some daisies here and there, a small fountain, one lonely stone bench (did Zelda and Shad sit side by side? Here? So close to one another? He needed to find out the answer.) and about a handful of trees. It was a sign that the orchard was planned and built in a rush, but it was quiet and peaceful, and the sound of the running water and the chirps of the birds that came to drink from the fountain made the place oddly relaxing.

Link would have felt more relaxed in any other place of Castle Town at that moment, for she was there, unaware of his presence and as breathtaking as always. Zelda was barefooted (and he thought he would die without ever seeing a small glimpse of her toes), the hem of her white dress touched her ankles as she stood on her tip toes to reach for a red apple, delicate fingertips caressing the smooth surface before her gloved fingers wrapped around the fruit and pulled it down from the tree. The apple joined the others in her basket, her hand came up to fix her white hat that protected her head then moved to throw her loose braid over her shoulders, dark and thick lock of hair swinging as she reached for another one.

He was transfixed; from where he stood he could see her profile, long and dark eyelashes framing blue eyes, peach colored lips pulled and curled in a small smile; what was she smiling for? He did not know, but it was a sight he would never ever get tired of seeing, so the hero cautiously moved the hide behind another tree and try to see her face from another angle, but, as the clumsy boy he could be at times, Link stepped on the metal side of a rake and the wooden part came flying towards his face.

He stumbled backwards and fell on his rear, hands cradling his nose that was much probably broken. But of course, he was not so quiet as he liked to believe; his yelp caught the princess’s attention and she dropped the apple, which happened to be one of the reddest in the tree and basket combined, to the ground and looked over her shoulder at him. Lips parted, eyes just slightly wider than usual, Princess Zelda managed to keep her cool and conceal her emotions in any possible occasion, really; but the sight of his flushed face and teary eyes, the way he sat down and looked up at her lost and confused and ashamed was too much for her to bear.

And so she laughed. White teeth flashed, her melodious laughter filled the area and mingled with the chirping of the small birds that watched them from the treetops, and her small feet paddled and crushed not so dry leaves under her soles as she walked in his direction. She kneeled before him, like a mother would to a child, and took his hands in hers after placing the basket down. There was nothing her magic could not heal; a broken nose would be an easy task considering she had restored one of the main staircases of the castle using her magic alone. After tending to his wounds, she retrieved the apple and suggested they went inside to deliver the fruits to the cook and he agreed, happily trailing after her and noticing how she still stood two inches taller when barefoot.

Link learned that apples were her favorites and, really, he should have noticed that before. At night he sneaked out of his bedroom and went to the orchard to tend to the trees and plant a few more, and slowly her favorite place was blooming with colorful flowers and smelled of different fruits. Some other days, he sneaked in the kitchen and baked different recipes of apple pies and cakes when the cook was not looking, but never got the chance to see her savoring the meals.

Until one day he was patrolling on his own and walked past the orchard, and caught a glimpse of her wearing a light pink dress and sat on a plain white towel under the shade of the trees and surrounded by flowers. He approached her, bowed his head respectfully and sat beside her on the spot she had patted, and watched as she gently stuck the small pastry fork in the half eaten slice of pie.

“I think I have got a secret admirer,” she said quietly with a humorous tone, tilting her head towards him. “Someone that has been watching me for long enough to know I love apple pies and such.”

He swallowed and tried to sound as casual as possible. “And who do you think it is?”

She wiped some filling away from the corner of her lips (she was not wearing any gloves, he noticed) and cleaned her fingertips on a napkin. “Shad, maybe.” Link frowned and stared at the crown of her lowered head, wanting nothing less than to scream in frustration and ask why him. “But I highly doubt it,” she continued, “He only has eyes for the Oocca and a certain female warrior.”

Oh, right. It was easy to forget that Shad had a thing for the youngest woman that was a member of the Resistance, what with the way he talked about his obsession with birds. Zelda giggled then, probably thinking the same thing he was: how would he ask Ashei out? And if things flowed well, would their wedding be Oocca themed? Link feared the answer.

The princess shrugged and picked the fork up, cutting a small bite sized slice of the pie and turning to him. “Would you like to have some?” He nodded, curious to know how his pies tasted like, and leaned forward with closed eyes, mouth slightly open and ready.

Ready for the pie that is, not for her soft lips that pressed down on his own, not for her tongue that gently caressed his bottom lip. Never once in his life did he think the princess would be so bold, but if he wanted to get anywhere with her, someone needed to take the first step. Link knew many things of the history of Hyrule and its residents, but on matters about love and courting, he was as clueless as one could be.

Yet it was all happening naturally. His hand had rested on the space just behind her pointy ear; hers were gently placed on his neck. Their lips moved slowly, both a bit inexperienced and careful not to hurt the other, but still it made him breathless and long for more when they parted. “What do you think?” She asked, leaning away from him.

He wrinkled his nose. “It’s terrible,” she smiled at him, amused at his words, “but tastes oddly sweet.”

Zelda laughed then when he all but threw the slice across the orchard and eagerly met his lips when Link wrapped his arms around her.


	2. Coffee Shop

“The usual, please.”

His throat went dry, which was common for a guy like Link. It usually happened when he met important people or when he didn’t know what to say, or when he was simply too amazed to speak. He could say it was a mix of the three this time.

Link swallowed, lips parting and cheeks reddening, sharp blue eyes staring straight into the pair that stared right back at him. She had to be one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen; if he searched his mind enough, he would be sure that she was the prettiest of all. Dark eyelashes framed pools of blue, light pink lips contrasted with the fairness of her skin, and her long brown hair loosely curled beautifully at the end. Her face had _upper class_ written all over it, like a good third of their customers, but unlike half of them, her lips were curled up into a polite smile.

The girl stood before him on the other side of the counter, patiently waiting for him while someone else on the line behind her let out a loud sigh. She was perhaps a bit taller than him, maybe older too, and wore an elegant dress with a coat over it. “Sir?” She asked as she leaned forward slightly; he in return leaned back a bit. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”

He nodded dumbly, numbly, feeling his skin crawl at the sound of her melodic voice. “I figured so.” The she laughed; it was quiet and fleeting, but enough to make a shiver run throughout his body. “Hello... Link.” She looked up at him after reading the badge attached to his deep green apron, “I’m Zelda. Nice to meet you.”

Once again, someone sighed audibly and tapped their feet on the ground constantly; Zelda merely rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I’d like a nutty mocha latte please.”

Link typed down her order and took the rupees from her hand, putting them in the cash drawer and being extra careful to hide his red face behind his long bangs. She thanked him and he only nodded without looking up, and only lifted his head when she was standing by the waiting counter. He made sure to have her in his peripheral vision, just to watch her for his guilty pleasure. She smiled prettily at his coworker, Fado, cupped her order in her hands and found herself a table by the windows.

He later found out through his coworker that she was a frequent customer and true to his words, Zelda was there on the following day, and on the other and on the other. She always greeted him with a smile, she was always well dressed, her hair was either pinned up or let down, she moved with grace and blinked her eyes at least thrice before she took the first sip of her latte. Link frowned at himself, thinking that maybe he was watching her a bit too much and was beginning to feel a little creepy.

Wiping his sweaty hands on the back of his pants, Link smiled at Ilia, the owner’s daughter, as he let her take control of the cashier and he walked over the counter with a cup of pumpkin pie latte and two freshly baked cookies. He sat on a high stool and cut the cookies into pieces on a napkin, and stared at nothing as he lazily ate bit by bit and occasionally sipped his drink, letting his mind wander and, much to his dismay, catching himself thinking of the elegant girl again.

Maybe Bo would know more about her. If he asked Fado he would probably be teased and picked on until the very last day of his life, and his gut told him that he, for some reason, shouldn’t ask Ilia. Weird, but Link trusted his instincts more than logic.

Bo was used to the life in Castle Town more than the rest of the group. They all were from the small village of Ordon, hidden in between the trees that surrounded the road from Castle Town to its neighboring city, Kakariko. Ordon was more of a big farm than a village, with only four families living in it. Link lived by himself in a small tree house, having inherited it from his deceased parents after he grew old enough to leave Rusl’s house, but now the house was empty and Ordon lost an inhabitant, for Link was accepted into college and moved to the city to enjoy the experience further.

Currently enjoying the unbearably hot days of summer in Castle Town, capital of the country of Hyrule, Link was counting the days until his classes started and was already planning a working schedule with the help of Bo and his daughter. It took them around fifteen, thirty minutes to travel from the village to the capital, but nothing in the world would make the man move to the city as well, and nothing would make him let Ilia live by herself as well.

After wiping the crumbles away from the corner of his lips with his thumb, Link lowered his hand to pick another piece of cookie, stopping halfway up to his mouth when fingers lightly touched him on the shoulder. He turned his head, the piece falling from in between his two fingertips when his eyes met with blue irises.

“Hello.” Breath caught in his throat and throat going dry, Link forced his lips to stretch into a smile through his shock, feeling and hearing his heart beating wildly in his chest. He just arrived at Castle Town; it was way too early to have a crush on someone. “I didn’t see you at the counter, so I stopped by to say hi.”

Zelda patted his shoulder, her touch soft and light, as she sipped the drink in her other hand. Link breathed in deeply; pumpkin, the same order from the other days. _The usual_ , he reminded somehow. With another pat, she recoiled her hand and smiled again before going for the door, and Link quickly shot up from his seat, nearly knocking down his cup and the table, and grabbed her by the fine material of her light gray coat.

“Sit,” he offered in a whisper, and even then his voice cracked and failed. _The embarrassment!_

She turned around, left eyebrow lightly raised up in an arch as she regarded him with an amused expression that screamed _oh so you talk!_ “I appreciate your invitation, Link.” His name flowed out her lips nicely, so soft and warm, like honey; he had to slowly sit down or else his knees would give in. “But I’ve got some errands to do. Maybe some other time.”

He wasn’t sure, but he could swear she blinked her right eye before leaving the coffee shop.

Needless to say, it got worse from there. His infatuation with the upper class girl (it was obvious she had much more money than he did) grew with each passing day, but as they passed he noticed that there wasn’t a pattern to her visits. There were times when she appeared at lunch, others when it was mid afternoon, there were times when she dropped by when they were about to close or when they had just opened, but she never again caught him on his break.

Then his classes started. He went to college in the morning and the afternoon, and worked his shift until nine in the night; still Zelda sent him her regards through his coworkers, mainly Fado, who now spent more time taking orders than serving the customers. He had seen her only a handful of times since his classes started, but she never stayed around for too long, claiming she didn’t want to bother them.

Link had hopes he would see her at college. Sure, she seemed older but not enough to have graduated, and that’s why he searched for her in between classes when he had to leave one lab to go to the other. He made friends and dropped hints here and there, hoping that they knew her by any chance. Shad, the avid history student, said it vaguely reminded him of his childhood friend, and Ashei, the lawyer student of the group, mind you, simply said she couldn’t think of anyone that fit into that description.

But that didn’t stop him; if anything, it only motivated him to search harder and further.

Three months passed and they met again. It was a holiday and Link decided to help at the coffee shop instead of taking the day off like Bo had suggested, and he would never regret having to wake up early on that morning. She was there, sitting on a secluded table by herself and surprisingly with no drinks before her. Link didn’t do a very good job in trying to hide the fact that he was watching her and at some point Bo left the kitchen and clamped a hand on his shoulder, pulling the younger man closer to him as he watched Fado clean the counter and Ilia return to the kitchen with an empty tray in her hands.

“Lad,” he said in that gruff voice of his, “why don’t you take a break and take a drink to Miss Nohansen?” The blond stared at him, brow furrowed and lips pressed together, until Bo nodded his head towards the lonely girl and Link nodded in understanding. Grabbing his usual latte, he quietly and swiftly approached her, watching almost transfixed as her teeth lightly bit down on her pink painted nails. He couldn’t say which was pinker: her nails or her lips.

Swallowing, he pulled a stool and sat on it, snapping her out of her trance and her eyes flew in his direction. Zelda straightened her back and failed to smile convincingly. “Hey,” she greeted, almost in a whisper, voice void of its subtle, but still present, cheerfulness.

“It’s been a while,” he said after clearing his throat, hands cupped around the paper cup. Zelda nodded her head, eyes darting to the clock on the wall and back to his face. “You’ve been here for a while.” Link commented, muscles stiffing in anxiousness.

Again, she nodded her head. “I’m waiting for someone.” His heart clenched. “But I guess he’s not coming.” Another painful clench. He envied whoever this person was, and also hated him for letting a girl such as her waiting for him. Zelda pulled back the sleeve of her thin deep purple blazer, revealing a silver watch made by a famous foreign company from Termina, Clock Town, named after the city in which its very first shop was situated. Link refrained himself from widening his eyes; a watch like hers could much probably pay his rent and all of his bills for over four months.

His lips parted, his mind searched for words to say, anything to comfort her. Her sad ( _sad!_ ) eyes glanced up at him before they shifted away to look out the window, and swallowing past the knot on his throat he pushed the cup forward. “Here.” Zelda looked down at the drink, discreetly sniffing the air and smelling pumpkin. “Pumpkin pie latte.” He explained, “I got this for you.”

She hesitated, fingers loosely curling and brow furrowing lightly as she stared at the cup and chewed on her bottom lip. The man before her shifted on his seat, watching her with apprehension and feeling something close to failure freeze his chest. “I-I’m sorry.” Link said finally, reaching out again for the cup. “I s-shouldn’t have-”

“No.” Her warm palms rested on the back of his hand; he swallowed at the touch. Soft, so soft. “I appreciate it, Link, but sadly I’m lactose intolerant.”

“O-Oh...” Her hands squeezed his and she slowly lowered their hands to rest on the tabletop, eyes averted to the side, refusing to meet his. “I can get you... The usual...”

A smile graced her lips then and she finally raised her head to look at his face. “No, thank you. Hopefully I won’t have to wait for too long.”

So they sat together for the remainder of his break, hand in hand and in silence, looking at anywhere but each other. Eventually he had to go back to work and she was by herself again, leaning forward with her elbows on the table, the slight slouched position vividly contrasting with her usual graceful nature. The seconds ticked by, suddenly it was midday and then it was mid afternoon, and still she was there, just waiting. Bo went up to Link after a while to ask him why she was there and what was going on, but Link had no answers to his questions, just more questions that wouldn’t be answered as well.

Just as the sun was setting behind that sea of buildings and skyscrapers, Zelda retrieved her phone from her purse and quietly talked to whoever it was while hiding her face behind the curtain of chocolate colored hair; then she simply put it back and stood, leaving the shop with long and quick strides. Link could only watch after her until she disappeared from his sight.

According to Bo, she didn’t appear again for three whole weeks.

That fact alone made him anxious beyond belief. Link caught himself staring at all the seats she had ever taken, glancing up at the clock just like she had the last time they talked, waiting for her to come up to the counter when he had his head lowered and say _the usual, please_ with that soft voice he grew to love. How could one fall in love with someone they barely talked to? He knew for sure that it wasn’t a simple crush anymore, but he feared he wouldn’t be able to give her the things she wanted.

More days passed, and weeks, and he was trying so hard to convince himself that she had moved away without telling him. Why would she? They were merely acquaintances; he worked in a coffee shop that she liked very much and that was it. She held his hands once, but what about it? You don’t need to be attracted to someone to hold their hands; friends do that, it’s a simple sign of affection. Thankfully for him, her sudden disappearance didn’t affect his academic career; the subjects were enough to distract his mind and taking care of all those pets were like a therapy, and the fact that he had never interacted with her there helped greatly. But even so he straightened his back and stared at any girl that looked remotely similar to her, and then he would find out that they weren’t as tall, or as graceful, or that their hair didn’t look as soft as hers.

He easily grew distracted at work, mind wandering and wondering if she was at least okay. Ilia grew distressed at some point, complaining that he should wake up and stop daydreaming, but he didn’t know why it concerned her so much, he had always been a quiet guy, and although she had an idea as to why he had his mind elsewhere, she wasn’t completely certain. Link only nodded and pretended to be listening and cleaned the counter and tables, and kept moving whenever it was possible in hopes he would distract himself. Seconds ticked by slowly and when he opened his eyes again, four months had gone by.

Link sat in his small apartment that was comfortable enough to house one lonely soul. A small bathroom, a room with a double bed, a kitchen and a small laundry, the living and dining room were mashed up together and that was where he was found, with books scattered on the tabletop and even on the floor by his feet, left hand flying and writing down words in a messy handwriting as he studied in advance for an important test he would have on the following week.

There was a knock on the door and he rose from his seat with a sigh, fearing it would be Ilia ready to fuss over him and repeat her _wake up to life_ speech, and so he threw the door open wearing a half bored half angry expression. It was _her. She_ ran into him, a hand reaching behind her to shut the door and the other reaching forward, slender fingers entangling in his hair and pulling her face to hers. His blue eyes widened, hands falling to rest on her hips and pull her close, and they stumbled and nearly tripped as he guided them to the back of his apartment.

His mind failed to understand what was happening, how it was happening, why it was happening and how she found his apartment, still he quickly unbuttoned her thin coat and threw it across the room whilst she reached down and took off her flats. Her warm hands slipped under his shirt, nails grazing his skin ever so slightly and making his hair stand on end, and he breathed out heavily against the column of her neck. Link took off his shirt and almost ruined her button up shirt as he threw it open and sent one or two buttons flying somewhere. His mouth went dry at the sight of the lacy black bra; he could barely breathe.

Zelda took it to her advantage and pushed him so he would fall on his back on the mattress, but her pencil skirt (why was she dressed so formally?) restricted her from moving freely, so she zipped it open and slid it down her legs, then crawled into bed and straddled him, leaning down to catch his lips. Link squirmed, hands tentatively touching her thighs, asking for permission; she rubbed herself on the bulge of his pants once, his hands grabbed her legs as his lips parted with a moan. She kissed his chin and moved away from him when he tried to take off his pants.

He sat up, disoriented for a moment, and turned to face her, forcing her down on the mattress with his weight whilst he kissed her as if his life depended on it and hand tracing her subtle curves as he moved a bit more to the side to better access her body. His palm caressed from her waist to her belly button and lower, fingers slipping inside the lace of her panties, and Zelda naturally bent and spread her legs apart, biting down on his lower lips softly and moaning low in her throat when his fingertips touched the slick, moist, folds.

When she started twisting and squirming, he gave her a quick kiss and got up, darting to his bathroom and opening and slamming drawers as he searched for something, leaving Zelda confused in bed until he returned with a small bright blue package in his hands. His face grew red and hot when she nodded knowingly and in turn she laughed at his evident embarrassment but beckoned him with a hand anyway, and he was sitting beside her in the blink of an eye. But then she looked away when he took off his boxers and put on his condom, and he laughed at her for being embarrassed of seeing him naked.

Link kissed her bare shoulder, hands working to unclasp her bra; she shivered under his touch, leaning back into him and sighing contently. Her fingers barely pushed back his shoulder, a silent command to him to lie down, and when he was on his back, she was on top of him, holding his hardened member in her gentle hands and carefully letting it slip inside her. Zelda sat still for a moment, regarding him silently as he smiled warmly and lovingly at her and his thumbs smoothed circles on her soft, creamy, skin.

Then she started moving. Excruciatingly slow at first, palms on his toned abs, hair messily thrown back behind her shoulders. Link touched every bit of her he could, he massaged her thighs and traced patterns on her waist, and he cupped her breasts and entwined his fingers with hers, and pulled her down and claimed her lips, hungry and passionate, slow and sweet, trying to match the rhythm she imposed with thrusts of his own.  

For the first time the touch of her hands was strong as she forced them down on his shoulders. Her hair fell forward, tickling his face, and her moans sounded close to breathless gasps as her fingertips dug into his skin. She reached her climax and opened her mouth in a silent scream, back curving and grip impossibly strong, but Link kept going whilst her body trembled above his and soon his vision went white as pleasure shook his entire being.

His sheets were sweaty, but still they laid there, Link on his side, Zelda on her stomach, and his fingers combed through her damp chocolate colored hair, as soft as her touch, as smooth as her voice, and it smelled just as nice as she did. “I’m sorry.” She broke the silence, uttering the very first words since she arrived.

“Where were you?”

Zelda closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. “My father was supposed to arrive from a business trip that day when I was at the coffee shop, but he never did. His secretary called me and said he was in a hospital in Labrynna and had suffered an accident.”

“Zelda...” He cupped her cheek, regretting having asked her where she had headed off to; the girl nodded her head and kept going.

“He’s in coma. No one has a clue as to when he might wake up, he’s just... There, sleeping.” Link pulled his hand back when she turned to lie on her back, arms on her stomach and eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. “I’m an only child and it was decided long ago that I would take his place in his company if anything ever happened to him.”

He nodded in understanding and moved close to her, and Zelda instantly curled up beside him, relishing on the feeling of his arms wrapped around her. Link kissed her temple softly and pulled the thin sheets higher to cover her. “So you were adjusting.”

“Yeah.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m twenty three. You?”

Link smiled. “I’m nineteen.”

Her eyes widened comically. “Oh my goddesses!” Zelda hid her face with her hands, turning away from him as if to shield herself from his chuckles. “You definitely look older!” His laughter grew louder as he came closer to her ear and nibbled it, causing her to squeak and try to move away.

He didn’t remember much of what happened after that. He remembered kissing her and then falling asleep, and on the following morning he woke up as she kissed his forehead and left a note on his bedside table, saying she was terribly sorry for having to leave but now she was the president of a company and had responsibilities. Link was half awake as he dragged himself to the shower, half aware that it was a Saturday and that he had to get to work. The water was enough to wake him up and make him move faster than before, so that he was out the door in within fifteen minutes.

Ilia seemed to be much calmer and better now that he wasn’t daydreaming anymore, and when she asked him what had happened for the sudden change to occur, he simply said he had a good night of sleep and she nodded in understanding; thinking that he had been tired and overwhelmed with his studies this whole time, she patted his forearm and grinned widely before skipping inside the kitchen to retrieve more orders.

Looking over his shoulder at the girl and grinning to himself, he heard as rupees were placed on the counter and greeted the customer without glancing at them just yet. “Ordona Café, how may I help you?”

“A nutty mocha latte and a pumpkin pie latte, please.” Link whipped his head back and faced Zelda, who merely shrugged her shoulders and pushed the rupees forward. As he typed down her order without glancing away from her face, she nodded her head towards the table and winked her right eye before moving along, leaving him blushing furiously and itching to follow her.

Thankfully for him, Bo had stuck his head out of the kitchen to ask something and witnessed the whole exchange of glances. “Well, lad, why don’t you take a break? You’ve been working nonstop.”

With a burst of stamina, Link darted away from the cashier and took the two cups his boss had in his hands, and expertly made his way through tables and chairs and stools until he reached the one that was taken by her, the one closest to the window. She smiled up at him when put the cups down. “Hey. I’m Zelda.”

He nodded, taking the hand she had offered and shaking it once. “Link.”

“I’m the president of a marketing company. You?”

“I’m studying to be a vet. I love animals.”

Zelda nodded her head and sipped her drink. “Lovely. I love animals too.”

“That’s nice to hear.” Link smiled at her, hands wrapped around the cup to warm them up. “Not many people do.”

She gave him a small smile. “I also happen to love this one guy I barely know and had less than five real conversations with him.”

He chuckled, lowering his head slightly to hide his pink cheeks. “I love this girl that’s a frequent costumer that disappeared for a good four months and suddenly reappeared at my doorstep last night.”

“I heard she’s quite the stalker; she enjoys following people from work to their home, you better be careful.”

Link reached across the table to put a strand of hair behind her ear and purposefully hovered his fingertips on her jaw line as he recoiled his hand. “I wouldn’t mind it if she visited me more often.”

For the first time he saw a light pink blush dust her cheeks and her hands found his in the middle of the table, and their fingers laced together, fitting perfectly as if they were meant to be.


	3. The Price To Pay

He stands with his back to the elegant door, hands folded behind his back and spine taut with tension. His ears are attentive and listen out to sounds coming from the corridors, but his sharp blue eyes stare right ahead of him instead of shifting back and forth between the tall windows, caught in the sight of her basking under the sunlight that filters through the crystalline glass. The light catches in the blue sapphire of her crown and casts rays of color on her fair skin, paints a sliver of a rainbow on the side of the bridge of her nose and when she moves her head it rests on her high cheekbone.

The purple quill in her hand moves across the yellowish paper as cursive letters are written down in dark blue ink, words form and his request is being fulfilled right before his eyes. She stops only to dip the tip in the refill and keeps on writing, hand flowing with grace and elegance and if he didn't know better he would say she didn't care, but when her head moves to the side again the rainbow is cast over the slight stress lines between her eyebrows, and he knows she cares more than she lets on.

For a moment he sees a drop of ink fall from the tip of the quill, red replaces dark blue in his eyes, and perhaps she could be writing his sentence with her own blood, because that is what it must feel like for her, and also her veins are so blue against her pale skin that he catches himself wondering at times if royalties really do have blue blood. She doesn't voice her concerns, doesn't look up at him although he is sure she can feel his heavy gaze on her, and only fills out the request, so silent and so quickly, as if it hurts her to do it. He squints his eyes as the sun rises higher up in the sky, the bright light that reaches the room is almost blinding and it comes from directly behind her. For a moment there's an aura around her, shining and erasing pieces of her form from his sight, and she glows, radiant like a goddess, sitting poised in her leather chair, but the quill keeps on flying across the page, oblivious to the scene unfolding before his nose.

Her golden pauldrons seem weightless, placed on shoulders that are so used to carrying the heavy weight of being the ruler of a kingdom, but he has seen her shoulders, bare of gold and fine fabric, and they are so delicate and fragile, and the skin is so smooth under his rough digits and he swears he isn't going to let anything mark her. He wants her to leave the world untainted and pure, whole and intact and regal and divine, but his hands touched where they shouldn't have and his lips left hers swollen, he was the one who undid her hair and sprawled it on the clean silk bed sheets, and it was his name that she said throughout the night between pants and moans. In the morning there were dark spots all over her bosom and neck, fresh cuts and scratches on his back, and the emotion displaying clearly in her eyes shouldn't be for him.

They don't speak of it in the following days and keep their hands to themselves, but when he touches her it's almost possessive, and when she touches him it's feather-light and warm. There aren't sidelong glances and secretive smiles, their relationship is as professional as it had always been, and the day has come when she leaves on a trip to a neighboring kingdom and he can't come with her, and when she returns he knows he can't do it anymore, because her smile is hollow and the golden band around her finger weighs more than the burden of being one of the chosen ones.

When she finally looks up from her paper the light catches in her irises and they shine bright before she leans in closer and her eyes are back to being dull with the lack of that ever present timid sparkle. The quill is set aside and her index finger runs across the page before hooking behind the corner and catching the edge of the paper between it and the thumb. He steps forward without the need to be ordered to do so and she presents him with his request; their hands don't brush together and their gazes lock for a fraction of a second before he reads the words written in her elegant cursive letter and he nods, pleased, but not really, with what he sees.

There's a moment's hesitation before he decides to fold the paper and pocket it away from sight, and with a deep bow he turns his back to her and backtracks his way to the door of her private study. "Hero," she calls and he halts but doesn't turn, for he knows he won't see much of her face anyway due to the light, and he knows that he doesn't deserve to look at her one last time.

Silence falls in the room and he waits for her words, there's shuffling noises coming from behind him but there are no steps to accompany it. He hears when the quill is picked up again and his heartbeat increases so to the point in which it hurts him to feel his heart moving in his ribcage. The tip is placed down on another paper and she is writing again for a brief moment, until she seems to realize what she is doing and crushes the paper among the fingers of her right hand. The room falls silent again as his heart rate decreases, his breathing is deep and long and low, and hers silently mirrors his.

"Have a safe trip." She decides to say at last and he nods in return and is out the door before either of them can say anything if they find the will to.

Epona waits for him at the foot of the front steps of Hyrule Castle. She doesn't nudge him or whine in contentment, and trots away when he is situated on her back as if she knows what happened on the third floor of the white building. The streets are alive and the townspeople greet him, unaware of the letter in his back pouch, and children circle around him, wishing for a good trip and wave at the gates when he is out in the field. He knows they'll be waiting for his return (and he realizes he knows so many things), but oh only if  _they_  knew.

At the top of a hill he sees a crimson carriage with the blazon of a royal family approaching, fine white horses pulling it and golden wheels turning on the deep green grass of Hyrule Field, moving at a comfortable pace towards Castle Town, towards Hyrule Castle. He casts one last glance at it, tries hard not to look at her study windows because he knows she will be looking out at the field, watching him go instead of watching  _him_  come. But that's the price they pay for being the chosen ones, for being princess and hero, and they never were free to be Link and Zelda anyway.


	4. Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late, very very late, but I only wanted to update this because hey it's been a long time I hope none of you forgot me.  
> So yeah, very late. I don't know what I was trying to write, I literally said "oh I'm gonna write tp zelink, the theme is stars" and this came out; kinda short, but it's better than nothing, am I right? /sweats nervously/ I think I like it? Will you like it? I hope so.
> 
> btw I've got a big surprise on the way; Jocelyn, no spoilers, you're one of the few people that know what's coming!
> 
> Enjoy!

 

* * *

  **Stars**

* * *

 

“Do you like the stars?”

Link, who learned to be a light sleeper during his journey, shifts under the heavy comforters and cracks an eye open, one dark pupil search the dark room for the source of the voice, and it is easy to find her silhouette standing by the doors that lead to the balcony having found her so many times in that spot before.

The hero of her people turns to lie on his side, forearm taking in the weight of his upper body, to observe as she leans her shoulder on the wall and drapes the long curtains over her as if they were a blanket. There are times when she stays up the entire night stargazing, others when she passes out in his arms out of tiredness when they meet in their chambers again at the end of the day, and in some nights she draws the curtains closed and tries to mask her foul mood. But he is a man who has seen so many things and solved so many puzzles; reading her mind is as easy and natural as breathing.

“I do,” he answers, curious and hopeful that she might explain why she suddenly started loving the spots of sparkles that dot the sky above.

She blinks, and he counts her intakes of breath; one, two, three – a swallow – four, five, six – a slight shift on her weight and her head drops lower, but not enough to hide her face behind her hair. “Why do you like them?”

He breathes in, slowly and deeply, because sometimes being married to the bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom is as tiring as fighting a horde of bokoblins. She never takes a simple yes or no for answer; she wants details, as much as you can give. She wants to know the specific color of the floor of Goron Mines, she wants to know the whole recipe of Yeto’s superb soup, she wants to know in which direction the sand pits of the Arbiter’s Ground are drained, and Link will dare you to say you will explain some other time because he knows how annoyed she can get. The queen has an appetite for knowledge that is as big as his.

“They relax me, in a way.” Link responds truthfully and quickly adds before she can ask  _why_. “I always found them nice. When I was a kid, Rusl stayed up with me late into the night and told me stories and myths, usually involving stars and greater beings, or even past heroes.” She raises her head again, chin high where it’s supposed to be. “He usually did that when I was pissed off. It turned into a habit, to stargaze to cool and clear my mind.”

There is a quick quirk in her lips, “You have always been a hot headed one, haven’t you?” He doesn’t respond, because it’s true and she knows it, just like she knows so many other things – but it’s not enough; it’s never enough. Then there is silence and Link sits up properly, because his drowsiness is long gone and his arm starts to ache. It will be some time until he gets some sleep; when she talks only in questions he takes it as a sign that the conversation can and might go on for hours. “Do they symbolize anything for you?”

He concentrates on her breathing, quiet and deep and controlled, the same way she concentrates on his, a perfect contrast of hers, and there is nothing but the sound of air passing through nostrils for a moment, until he licks his lips and finds the right words. “They mostly symbolize hope.”

“Hope?”

He nods as he stretches his arms above his head. “When I was running around trying to save Hyrule, it was always a good sign to see stars after a Twilight cloud was lifted.” There is a hitch in her breath and he lets her believe he didn’t notice it. “It meant there was a way to bring the kingdom back to normal, they helped me believe it was possible.”

“Do they mean peace?”

“No, never peace.” He swallows past a lump in his throat and lets her ask  _why_. “There were many creatures that appeared at night.” A pause, and then, “There still are if you look closely.”

She hums, taking one step back, curtains still draped over her shoulders. He never understands why she doesn’t take the comforters with her; he’d rather feel cold than see her using pieces of decoration to keep her warm. “Hyrule will never be at peace.” She affirms for the first time that night, and Link agrees, but this conversation has a deeper meaning other than late night chit chat so he waits because there is more to come. “What other qualities do you attribute to the stars?”

“Many times they helped me find my way back home when I got lost.” The blond lies back down, hands clasped together over his taunt stomach and feral eyes focused on the high ceiling. “Stars are great maps when you know how to use the correctly.”

Another hum comes from her, this one is longer and quieter than the other – it means she is finally getting tired, that a brief talk was all she needed. “Did they help you find anything else?”

He makes a face, lips pressing together and eyebrows knitting down as he tries to fight back the blush creeping on his cheeks, and he mumbles almost incoherently, because the memory is so embarrassing that he wishes he could go back in time and propose to her in some other way, but she understands his words, because to her deciphering his groans is as easy as it is for him to read her mind. “They helped me find you.”

She chuckles, “You’re really dorky, aren’t you?”

“You’ve got an awfully big courtyard, okay?” Link says in exasperation, pals turned up and a slight pout on his lips.

“Remember, it’s yours too.” She finally walks away from the doors, long curtains sliding off of her form as smoothly as raindrops on clear glass, and finds her way to his side under the comforters, cool cheek resting on one bicep and one chilly hand finding his on his stomach.

Link turns his face and buries his nose in her brown hair for a brief nuzzle, then kisses her close to her hairline. “Did the stars look lovely tonight?”

She shrugs and inches closer to him seeking his warmth. “I don’t know, it was cloudy outside.”

“Then why the hell did you stay up till late, Zelda?”

The queen gives his hand a soft squeeze and tilts her head to meet his eyes. “You were snoring.”

Link answers her with a moan, and she tries hard to stifle her giggles. “Oh come on!”

“How come a light sleeper like you doesn’t wake up with your own snores?”

He kicks his legs like a kid, leaving the mattress shaking under their bodies, and groans, “Zelda, it’s too late to start another game. Go to sleep.”

“I’m serious, Link, I want to know.” By her tone of voice she is anything but; he only grunts more and he feels her amused smile against the skin of his shoulder.

“Goodnight, Zelda.”

“But Link!”

“Goodnight.”


	5. Wine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been slacking off these past days, haven't writing or reading as much as I wish, so I went to my inspiration tag on tumblr, picked something that gave me a quick idea and boom, this happened. I wasn't intending on it ending the way it did, it was supposed to be much shorter, but I have no control. I am trash. I am sorry.
> 
> I didn't review it, but I will at some point, maybe tomorrow, I just want to keep writing ehehehe. 
> 
> I hope you find this thing enjoyable!! Remember to tell me what you think! uvu

* * *

**Wine**

* * *

_Vodka burns my throat, but your name hurts my head, so I would rather black out with a hangover than stare blankly at my hands trying to forget what it was like to touch you._

* * *

Link pinched his nose bridge, eyes shut tight to block out the light and stop the burning in his pupils, but it did not stop, so he simply reached for the glass and drank from it without pausing. He had long ago lost count of how many glasses he had, up until the ball ended the number was twenty, but ever since everyone left the number had reached great heights. He guessed he had had around fifty, if not sixty, glasses of wine; only now was his control starting to leave him, but he was not finishing yet.

This wine was not strong as the whiskey, or the beer, served at the bar – truthfully, it was not close at all – but here, in the quietness of the empty ballroom, he could drown himself in alcohol; at the bar, whenever he reached two inches to the side of the glasses, Telma would call it a night for him and would serve him water or milk instead, leaving him glaring at her until he decided to leave the establishment. It was unbelievable how well he could hold his alcohol now that he was older and learned how to drink. At first he would get tipsy so easily, and now he could not drink to forget, for he rarely got drunk anymore. When had been the last time he missed his footing?

But now his eyes were hurting, and he was just starting to feel his limbs getting heavier.

That was a good sign.

As he poured another glass, he thought of her, pretty and regal wandering about the room in earlier hours of the evening, talking to nobles and dancing with men, and running away from him like the fox she was. She did just that, she kept her distance and pretended not to know him, turned her back and never looked his way until needed. That was her true form; that was Queen Zelda behind the curtains when they fell over to cover the stage after the end of a play. She had told him, back then before _that_ , that masks should be used at all times when you are an important piece in this game called life, but he had never expected her to pull this on him.

He swallowed his drink just as the door was pushed open. “Link?” He made a face, one that she saw before he could hide it, not that he would. “What are you doing here?”

The man said nothing, and that was probably the dumbest decision he made that night, for she walked past the threshold and approached the table with a slight wrinkle on her forehead. Her gaze slipped to the bottles on the tabletop – eight, five empty, one half full, two still closed – and her frown deepened further. “Why do you drink so much?” She inquired the darkness, the walls, the doors, the silence; she was inquiring the furniture because he would not give her an answer, and they both knew that.

She reached for one of the bottles, taking it in her hand. “What prompted you to start drinking this much?”

He snorted, hating the way she stared at him with that lost look in her eyes. She dared pretend she did not know, she dared pretend she was oblivious, she, Queen Zelda, the living symbol of wisdom, pretended she was not aware of the things that bothered him. But of course she would be, she had no feelings; once he thought she had, but now he knew, it was a play all along, yet another mask she wore to please her people. He wondered – were her moans in the script? Was the way she said his name part of the plan? The pretty pink flush on her cheeks, was it all makeup?

Was that night many months ago planed beforehand so she could wear her best mask and her finest corset?

Getting no answer from him, Zelda lowered the bottle back down to the tabletop, one hand closing around his wrist. “Come, it is too– ”

Link jerked his arm free from her grip, and she fell forward, regaining her balance by leaning over the table on her forearms, but they were too slow to stop the bottles that had toppled over and rolled to the floor, shattering and spilling crimson liquid all around them, pooling by her feet and staining her long nightgown. Zelda straightened and stepped back and away from him, studying the damage with hard eyes and jaw set; Link raised an eyebrow at the sight – was she truly angry for getting her dressing gown dirty?

Zelda inhaled sharply through her nose and seemed to choke on it as she whirled on the balls of her feet and marched back the way she came, leaving a trail of red footprints in her wake. Mesmerized, he watched how her robe billowed whilst she walked out the ballroom and how tightly fisted her hands were, then stood and raced after her not too long after finding himself alone in the place.

She was rounding just around the corner by the time he caught up with her, and she was pushed and pressed against the wall, his hands on her shoulders and his body pinning her in place, mouth hot and wet on hers. The queen struggled in his arms, slapped his biceps and pushed him back, and he took the hint that he should back away, and he did so, looking at her as if he had just been betrayed and sentenced to death. Running a hand down the length of her torso to smooth any wrinkles, Zelda discreetly looked around and announced casually, “Please, follow me.” He followed her lead.

Surprisingly, she guided him to his bedroom, pushed the door open and told him to enter with sweep of her hand. Link went inside, red in the face and embarrassed, for his actions and for being put to bed in his semi drunk state by the monarch of Hyrule. “Do you think you will remember this in the morning?” She asked, still by the door, and he only nodded, back turned to her. “Good.”

Zelda closed and locked the door. His eyes widened almost comically.

She was on him one heartbeat later, fingers working on the line of buttons in the front of his shirt, lips on his, tongue in his mouth, and he could only give a half assed kiss in return for he still had yet to comprehend what just was happening. When she slid the linen shirt down his arms, nails grazing the skin all the way to his wrists, his breath hitched, and they switched places. He had her lying on her back, brown hair sprawled over his cotton sheets that were not as fancy as her silk ones, hands trailing up her legs and taking the nightgown with them, mouth leaving kisses on her stomach and sternum, on her collarbones and her neck, her jawline and her ears.

The dressing gown was discarded to the side without a second thought; his pants soon followed.

His fingers pressed and caressed her core through fabric, his lips silenced her hums and moans, and from her position there was little she could do to reciprocate the action. But they switched again and she was in control, face in his neck, hand on his shaft, his finger twisting the bed sheets and mouth opened in a silent pleasure. When the undergarments were tossed aside, they got moving.

With the woman under him and the blue blanket covering their forms (he did not know if she had said it made things feel more intimate, or if he had just dreamed that), he moved slowly, holding her gaze and tracing the curve of her jaw with a thumb. Her nails ran up and down his back, making him shiver, her nibbles and whispers in his ear prompted him to go just a little faster, and faster, and faster until her breaths were shallow and her hold on him grew tighter, and Zelda held onto him, teeth on his shoulder and body trembling just so.

She came undone first; he, soon after. They lied side by side, staring at the ceiling as if it could give an explanation to what had just happened, and if it could it would stare right back, as lost as they were. Link sought for her hands but she was already moving to a sitting position, and he followed suit. “Zelda.” She stopped at the mention of her name, but did not turn to look at him. “Why are you ignoring me?”

“I am not–”  

“You are.” He said firmly; it was a good thing that he was not slurring yet. “I am no fool. I know when something is wrong with you, or me, or us.” She flinched; he continued. “Is this your way of dealing with things? Do you just give up and run? Are you doing this a–” Link stopped before he could say something stupid, but she had already caught up on his train of thought.

Still without turning, she asked softly. “Again? Is that what you wanted to say?”

“Zelda...”

“I am no fool.” The queen repeated his words as she stood and squared her shoulders. “Do not compare that to this.”

“Then what,” he moved closer to her, but she walked away and started dressing, “are we supposed to do? You keep running and I keep chasing.”

Zelda turned then, stuck in the process of passing her arms through the sleeves. “So now it is my fault?”

Link stood up and quickly walked in her direction, holding her in place by the shoulders. “No, that is not what I am saying!” He was breathless, chest expanding and contracting and lungs working double time, grip firm on her and eyes piercing all the way to her soul. Zelda held his gaze then silently lifted her arms to put on her nightgown; his hands dropped limply to his sides.

She put one palm on his cheek, and he leaned into her touch. “I love you, so very much, Link.” He closed his eyes, enjoying her warmth and the way she said his name. “But we must learn to understand each other if we do not want to suffer.”

“We can do that,” his hand cupped hers, and he turned his head to kiss her palm. “We can work things out.”

Zelda offered him a smile and stepped in closer, then gave him the softest of kisses. Moving to put on her robe, she bid him a quiet farewell, and slipped out the room, leaving the man alone with his thoughts. As he sat down on the bed and ran his thumb over his lips, thinking back to the things they just did, Link forgot he was supposed to ask her what she was doing out so late at night. 


	6. Halloween In Hyrule

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, what's up and Happy Halloween!!
> 
> Though I do not celebrate it, I did whip this up pretty quickly so you could have what to read before I post my next fanfic. I'm not working on Assassin II at the moment for I have a more important one to focus on, and I will only update it once I write most chapters, if not all, of this new secret fic - but don't worry, I already wrote ten of them! Only eighteen left ;; 
> 
> This one focus more on Link than on him and Zelda together, but the end will make up for it hopefully, and also, boy, am I enjoying writing Link and Zelda interacting in that way. If you approve it, give me a thumbs up (Y) I'll try to stop delaying it and reply to all reviews, I read them I just forget to reply ;;
> 
> Enjoy and please tell me what you think!! Best regards!

* * *

**Halloween In Hyrule**

* * *

In the streets of Castle Town, groups of people, mostly kids, wandered about under the glow of flames on torches and orange paper lanterns hanging overhead. Carved pumpkins lined the sides of the streets accompanied by candles of various sizes, melting and dripping slowly to the cobblestone ground, leaving pools of wax surrounding their base. Children laughed, dressed in last-minute or thoroughly planned costumes, masks concealing their faces or hanging from their necks and small decorated buckets swaying from the crook of their elbows, filled with candies and all sorts of goodies.

After much insistence, the kids of Ordon convinced their good friend and local hero, Link, to take them to celebrate Halloween in the capital of the kingdom. Both Luda and Ralis said during their stay in Kakariko Village that the experience was one of a kind, and the kids were more than excited to see it with their own eyes and try it themselves; it was also the perfect opportunity to run across the Shaman’s daughter and the Zora prince after months without seeing them. Luda and Renado were staying in one of the spare rooms of Telma’s bar and Link promised to take them there later, but finding Ralis would be a little harder.

The boy in his late teens, just one step away from hitting adulthood, wore nothing different over his green tunic that he grew fond of, except for a pair of tailored ears and a tail attached to the belt around his hips that Ilia had made for him to get Link in the spirits of the holiday even though he was fine without any costume, thank you very much. The kids teased him, saying he was dressed as a cat, but he insisted that he was a wolf and just to prove his point he flicked his ears like one would – but it did not have the desired effect and the kids only laughed all the more. Sulking, he lead their way through the winding streets of Castle Town, with arms crossed and a ghost of a pout over his lips, eyebrows pinched together as they talked loudly and laughed behind his back. Although he was not the subject anymore, he was still displeased; they called him a cat, a _cat_! If Midna heard them now she would tease him to the end of his days.

Ilia took the time to make everyone nice costumes from the clothes they already had so they would not feel left out during the celebration. Beth had a black and red dress and Ilia only made her a pair of red wings so she could go as a ladybug, a simple white bed sheet with two cutup holes for Talo because that was his favorite costume, Uli had allowed her to tear off the sleeves of an old shirt Colin had so he could go as a pirate, and Malo dressed all in grey – he was a rock and yet his costume was much better than Link’s. Colin’s mother also lent her a dark dress she owned and Ilia bought herself a cheap pointy hat to pass as a witch; it was simple, but good enough.

She found it amusing, too, how most of the boys were dressed in green with sock-like hats on their heads and great part of them were carrying sticks or play wooden swords to look like Link. Many times her friend glanced over his shoulder to find her hiding her grin behind a palm at the sight of young kids looking up at the hero with awe in their eyes, and some were brave enough to go up to him and try to strike a conversation. No matter if he was in a bad mood (Link was never one who enjoyed dressing up) he would stop and talk to them for a bit, then excuse himself whilst ruffling slightly the visible portion of their hair before marching on; as overwhelming as it could be, he appreciated their attention, but he was there to spend the time with his friends, not to stop and give autographs. He did not enjoy being the center of attention, but did whatever was in his grasp to make everyone happy. Really, sometimes he needed to worry more about himself.

The group emerged from one of the roads to stand in the border of the main plaza where a band played some thematic songs and booths were placed about selling food and masks and other accessories for those who were not dressed up. The kids quickly dispersed, leaving Link and Ilia behind to stand by the closed doors of Malo Mart and follow them around with their eyes. Fake spider webs hang from the porch ceiling, painted cardboard spiders and bats were glued to the front of the building and more pumpkins were placed lining the walls. Soon the kids returned and tugged on Link’s hands, leading him to the stairs on the other side of the plaza and directly into the path illuminated by more jack-o-lanterns and assorted candles.

As they went, the music grew fainter and fainter, and the young hero swallowed past a lump in his throat, knowing well where they were going. The gates were open leading to the spacious front courtyard of Hyrule Castle where more booths had been placed, and the royal guard paraded about wearing skeleton costumes underneath parts of their armors and awfully accurate skull masks. Link almost shivered, thinking of when he entered the left courtyard and found stalkin and stalfos in the graveyard, roaming over the graves of the princess’s deceased relatives and haunting the area. What caught his attention the most though, as well as everyone else’s, was the pair of guards dressed differently than the rest, wearing heavy armor and standing by the decorated doors of the castle, one of which was left ajar and let a faint light slip outside.

Then a child, a little girl, bolted from the reception hall to the front courtyard, shrieking at the top of her lungs and kicking at the skirts about her feet until she found herself in her father’s waiting arms, who looked down at the top of her head with a mixture of concern and amusement. The door creaked and loudly snapped shut, making the kids of Ordon jump in place and avert their attention towards the source of the sound; the guards remained motionless, staring ahead of them as if nothing had happened.

“I wanna go there!” Exclaimed Talo before hurrying towards the front steps, prompting the other kids to follow and leaving Link and Ilia no other option than follow him as well.  As he approached, the guards instantly drew their spears and crossed them in the space between them, blocking the way.

The young hero hurried to the front and pushed the kids back so he could glare at the men, but they paid him no heed and said in unison. “Anyone can enter the maze, but only one with a brave heart will get to the end!” Pulling back the spears to their sides, they turned to face each other and pushed the doors open, leading to a dark room.

Talo and Colin rushed to enter first, followed by Link and Malo, and Ilia and Beth trailed behind the boys, almost apprehensive to go inside. The doors once again shut loudly, the sound echoing in the closed space, and the few light existent came from more carved pumpkins lying about randomly. Link touched one of the divisions of the room and found they were actually black curtains hanging from the ceiling, makeshift walls to form the maze the guards talked about. The boys went on the front to guide the way, but they relied mostly on Link who was used to that kind of stuff, and so they decided to hang two steps behind him instead.

In every wrong turn they found something, ranging from real looking skeletons lying on the ground before a dark scenario to knights or the castle personnel dressed in scary outfits, jumping and screaming at them whenever they entered their secluded space. More than once Beth screamed so loud it hurt his ears, Ilia mostly yelped and gasped, and the boys tried to put up a brave front, but at times yelled also, especially when someone touched their shoulders or breathed on their necks. In one of the corners they spotted a doll hanging from the ceiling by a chain wrapped around the neck, shackles and more chains hanging from its wrists and ankles, dress tattered, hair disheveled, eyes wide open and blood trickling down its throat. The kids screamed again and Ilia joined them this time while Link did not utter a sound, but he felt his frenetic heartbeat just below his Adam’s apple; this doll looked too much like Zelda and the dress belonged to her, he knew it.

“I wanna go back!” Beth wailed with her face hidden in Ilia’s waist, but Link, and the boys too though they did not say it, was determined to get to the end.

Another corner, another gruesome sight. A knight had a bloodied arrow impaled in one of his eye sockets and had its skeletal body lying on a bed of dry leaves, vines growing over his broken armor and rusting sword, curling over the edge of the other eye socket and entering his empty skull, curling over exposed ribs and column, remnants of muscle clinging to some of the bones. Link could not be certain, but he swore he could smell the scent of decaying bodies. Still, he felt queasy, the armor resembled the one the Ancient Hero wore, his ancestor who passed to him his hidden skills, the one who once was a hero of Hyrule and worked alongside the princess of his time. He heard a gagging noise coming from behind his back and turned to see Talo trying to hold back his dinner, but glanced away towards the last bit of the maze. What lied at the end?

He went onwards, leaving in their hands the option to follow or flee. He would not turn back after all he went through; what did Zelda have in mind when she planned such thing? The kids scurried after him, sticking too close to his form as they went further and the pumpkins grew scarce until they were walking in complete darkness and had to follow his instincts. It was surprising how well Link could see in the dark, he had always been good at that but grew even better after he journeyed about Hyrule on his own, and even learned a few things to navigate easily in lightless areas. The sound of their footsteps was enough to tell him if they were going to run into a curtain wall, but if that alone did not help then he would click his tongue and find out the direction he should go. Thanks to his skills, they got to the other side of the maze, reaching a mostly empty space with only one obstacle standing in its middle, though Link could not tell what it was.

They stood at the end of the path in silence; the children huddled about his imposing form and waiting, breathing heavy and hard and eyes darting about hoping they could spot something. An eerie laugh echoed, seemingly coming from all corners at once, and Link did not know where to look at and almost went for the sword he did not bring along. Then it sounded from the way they just came, prompting them to whirl around and back away, and wait. They could only wait.

“Welcome to my castle.”

A gust of wind circled the area and all at once the candles lit by themselves around them, and they turned again to face the person standing directly behind. Sitting poised on an elegant and intricately carved dark oak throne was Zelda, dressed in a red and black gown detailed with gold, and a golden crucifix studded with red gems around her neck, the cross coming to rest over the cleavage she hardly showed. Her hair fell about her completely loose and in waves, her makeup was dark and the deep wine colored lipstick brought out the pointy fangs behind them and a trail of blood that trickled down her chin and neck. The black eyeshadow, he noticed, made her eyes pop out, though instead of blue her irises were of a sickly shade of yellow, similar as to how they looked like when she was possessed back then.

The kids screamed one last time before collapsing on the ground, and Zelda laughed with mirth at the sight, the sound still eerie and somewhat teasing. She was quite the sight with the crucifix over her bosom and the pointed canines, and Link would have appreciated it more had his duty side not kicked in just then. The princess quieted when he moved forward and brought himself to his knees, head bent. “Goddesses,” she almost groaned with a slight roll of her eyes, “Way to kill the mood, Link.”

He smirked, “Forgive me, Princess, duty always comes first.” She did scoff then and brushed him off with a dismissive sweep of her hand, motioning for him to stand. “What is this all about, anyway?”

“It is Halloween.” Zelda announced as she opened her arms wide as if to show all the hard work she put into it. “I do not get many chances to have fun, might as well take what I can get.”

Link quirked an eyebrow at her words. “Your idea of fun is scaring a bunch of kids shitless?” Behind him, Ilia gasped and nearly slapped his arm to remind him to have some manners, but the small act of camaraderie going on between princess and hero left her frozen on the spot. The kids, on the other hand, snickered at his incredulous tone.

Zelda grinned, the smile almost wicked looking as she showed sharp teeth and all, and reclined on her seat lazily. “Did you not heed the guards’ warning?”

He frowned at her words, and Colin stepped up to clear it up for him. “Anyone can enter the maze, but only one with a brave heart can get to the end.” Then he looked up at the hero, “That’s you, Link!”

The princess assented her head once. “That is correct.” Her left arm swept out in an arch and directed their gazes to a door. “Since you got here, might as well take a prize.” The guard standing by said door saluted and opened it, accompanying the now excited kids and a rather shaky Ilia inside so they could claim their prizes among piles of toys and more goodies.

Link watched them momentarily, then turned to face the princess who was now standing beside him. “What is this?” He placed a fingertip under his left eye, and she smiled.

“Magic.” Then, teasingly, she ran her tongue over the tip of her sharp canine, enjoying the way his gaze followed her moving tongue.

“Nice dress,” he let his eyes shamefully travel down to her cleavage. Damn, this was all planed from start to finish. To get him here and to tease him, too. He was under the impression she had not expected the kids to come, though.

Her shoulders shook in silent laughter, hands coming up to the high collar of his shirt and slowly undoing it. “Nice wolf costume.”

He scoffed, “At least you got it right.” She smiled, tracing her red painted nail over his skin languidly. “They were saying I was a cat.”

“Nonsense.” Gently, she lowered her lips to his neck and bit the skin there, leaving the mark of her teeth and a stain of her dark lipstick. “You are a wolf, and a feral one at that.” Zelda felt the vibrations of his throat under her lips when he hummed and she pulled back to tie the collar and conceal the mark underneath. “Will I see you later?”

Link smirked predatorily, making her shiver under his heated gaze. “You will,” he bent his head to place his lips on the hollow of her collarbones, “And it will be your turn to scream.”

Zelda nearly whimpered in anticipation, lips falling open when his tongue touched the skin of her throat. Link, then, straightened his back and winked his eye before joining his friends in the adjacent room, and Zelda resumed her position on her throne and waited. 


	7. Papercut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo!
> 
> I know from Friday to Sunday, usually, is the period of time I update Antumbra. I'll update that story tomorrow and explain what happened today and this past week, so don't worry ;)
> 
> Here's something I wrote just a couple of days ago and couldn't post because of my shitty internect connection, which is fixed now amen son
> 
> I'll be leaving because I need to catch up on sleep cries
> 
> See ya!

* * *

**Papercut**

* * *

There was nothing in the land that reminded him of her like paper did. It was an item present in all stages of her life, from birth to the present time, and it would stay with her until she passed away, piled up in her study and filling her drawers until nothing more could be added in there.

Before, they were simple tools for the doodles he did back in the ranch, seated on a hill under the shade, drawing goat after goat and occasionally a cat. Sometimes, Ilia rolled an old newspaper around itself and used it to smack his head playfully when he told her his awful jokes and bad puns, but she was always laughing afterwards so it was worth it. Then the same ragged paper would be cut in uneven, unequal squares and handed to the kids, and together they would sit on the clearing before his tree house and fold little boats and other things.

Before, paper was just paper, just something he could write on and use to spend his time. With Midna, who never had the patience to fold up flowers and geese, paper was only important when it came to a map or memo, nothing else mattered to the Twilight Princess. Midna had her ways of distracting herself and relaxing, he guessed, but to him these little things were a reminder of the life he was slowly leaving behind. The butterflies, the frogs, all he folded with care was crumbled and stuffed in his pocket or pouch the second they were attacked or needed to move on. He could not keep them perfect and unwrinkled, just as his life would never be the same after the quest.

After his victory and his dear friend’s departure, he found himself living temporarily in Castle Town, where he was presented to the life of an aristocrat. Princess Zelda herself, always so kind and thoughtful, housed him in her palace after he left his little village in order to try to find his place in the world. He was given access to all rooms of the castle and when he was not helping reconstruct what was broken, he was in presence, sitting cross-legged on her fancy carpet and folding his things, one by one, whilst she scribbled endlessly over at her table, quill scratching the paper with grace.

Sometimes, he caught himself staring. It was hard to believe he went from a goat herder to Hyrule’s hero; above that, he was their princess’s most trusted underling. Zelda, if he was allowed to address her by name in his mind, did not speak much like him, something that proved to be quite a barrier between them. He wanted to get closer, but striking up conversations was not his forte, and Zelda certainly did not seem like she would be doing that so soon.

Paper rustled, the quill resumed its work.

Now it had a more important meaning. Paper, somehow, was not just paper. After months of bending and crushing, he now lined his work neatly side by side, admired its beauty and kept it in a drawer of his closet, all because she was so delicate to pick her documents and set them aside when she was finished. He watched the way she picked them up from a pile, thumb holding the sheet down while her index finger ran inwards from the top right corner, curling the paper enough so the middle finger could slip underneath, and just like that she moved it away and placed it before her, always so careful. Her gloves were folded and kept where he could not see it, for with them she could not perform that routine as efficiently.

“Do you need something?” She said that so quietly he had to think if he was not imagining things. Then her eyes moved up to look at him, and he found out that, yes, she had truly spoken.

He tried not to fidget. “I... Ran out of paper.”

With a twitch of her eyebrow, the princess returned her white quill to its holder and bent at the waist to reach the last of the drawers, retrieving from within a brand new stack of paper she placed at the only empty spot on her work desk. Link was beckoned to go and get it, but from where he was seated, he could see that it was too good and too fine to be used in his crafting. The hero swallowed, torn between taking it and leaving it, so she gave the stack one pat and went back to her work, silently ordering him to take what he wanted.

Few days passed, he now sat on a velvety loveseat she got for him, despite his reassurance that the carpet was enough for him. The stack of paper she gave him never decreased in size, and he suspected she added more to it after he left to retire to bed late into the night. Zelda was already in meetings by the time he arose and was still working by the time he exited her study; Link did not need to wonder if she slept enough, for the shadows under her eyes spoke more than she did. That night, Zelda was at her desk trying to fold a paper of her own. He watched silently, trying to guess what she was doing, but it was hard because it was not looking pretty. He dared not ask and so alternated his time between folding a horse and stealing glimpses at her.

Once, he entered her study and found a paper rose where he usually sat, stained with blotches of crimson all over it. Her Highness, he noticed upon looking at her, was having troubles to sign her documents with bandaged fingers.

She said: “If you run your finger too quickly on the edge,” even picking up another sheet from the pile was hard with the rough fabric around her skin, “it might hurt.”

Blue eyes widened; that crimson was not any crimson.

For the remainder of the night, Link sat, troubled gaze on her handiwork. He wondered if there was a meaning behind the bloodstained paper rose, but he could not think of one and she would not tell him what it was. Not wanting her to get hurt again for trying to do his hobbies, he switched from folding to doodling, but in the nights to come he could not tell if she was drawing as well.

When she arrived after him and complimented the drawing of Louise he did by memory, he inquired, “Why did you not stop after you got hurt?”

Zelda only replied when she was comfortable on her chair, and even then it was not exactly the reply he was looking for. “Why did you not?”

Link frowned, glanced down at his piece and did nothing else for yet another night.

Then Castle Town was whole again, all fixed, and his help was no longer needed. They were in her study, for the first time he was seated on a chair across from hers, watching as her now healed fingers worked seamlessly again. He was there to tell her where he was going, if he was staying or departing, but he had been there for hours and had not yet decided what to do with his life. Zelda did not try to tell him what to do, she simply scribbled and waited, that rose of hers placed by the quill holder.

“I think I am going.”

“Then you go.”

A frown on his part, silence on hers. Nothing was said for a minute.

“I think I am staying.”

“Then you stay.”

The quill was dipped into the inkpot, her name was written neatly on the bottom line.

“I think I like you.”

“So do I.”

“A whole lot.”

“So do I.”

He grinned, her lips quirked up slightly.

“I think I will miss you if I leave.”

She did not reply.

“So I am staying.”

“Is this final?”

He went quiet, noticing how she halted mid name and waited for his reply.

“I do not know.”

She resumed her work, he bid her goodnight.

In the morn, they met in the hallway by accident, both with heavy eyelids and wishing they could sleep longer. Link had imagined that once it was over she would be able to sleep in and live a less busy life, but she was up and about early in the morning with her schedule in hands. In his, a much heavier package, a bag with essentials he used during his stay. Regardless his wish to leave or not, he could not live in the castle until he made up his mind. Noticing what he carried, Zelda inhaled deeply. “I shall accompany you to the front doors.”

Servants bowed at her, and he did not know whether he should walk beside or behind her form, so he stayed in between. Her steps were heavier, the many nights without proper sleep finally catching up to her, but the princess forced herself onwards, for after this was over she knew she would have time for herself. “Are you leaving, then?” He shrugged. “Hyrule is too small for you, is it not?”

“I would not say that.” He bit his tongue lightly, thinking. “I crave adventure, and all that is in Hyrule to see, I have already seen.”

“Perhaps I could appoint you to a prince I know?” Link did not enjoy that idea in the slightest. “His kingdom is bigger than Hyrule. Surely, you will find what you seek there.”

He puffed his cheeks and fought the urge to whine. “But I do not want to leave.”

“Then do not.”

“But the adventure-”

“Then go.”

“Princess!”

The castle personnel was more surprised at his exasperated tone than the princess herself. Slowly coming down to a stop and turning to look at the young hero, she found him to be red in the face, balled fists hanging by his sides. One eyebrow quirked almost imperceptibly. “Yes?”

His mouth fell open, but quickly shut as he ruffled his bangs in agitation. “Tell me what to do!”

Then she finally seemed surprised, though it lasted only a second. “Hero Link, I cannot-”

“Yes, you can!” He wanted to scream so loud Midna would hear him from the other side of the mirror. “You are the princess! You can tell me what to do!”

Zelda regarded him in silence as he tried to regain control over his breathing and realized what he had done. It dawned on her, whilst he apologized profusely, that it was his way of asking for her help. He was a simple sixteen years old boy taken out from his secluded little village and transformed into the hero of a country overnight. He was lost and probably scared; he was not like her who knew what she would do with her life since birth. Link did not know what he wanted, until months ago, his desire was to help Colin be a braver man and maybe be the future mayor of Ordon. He was giving her the right to say how he should live from now on because she was older and wiser.

She cut him short before he started another thread of apologies. “I tell you to stay until you are older and know better. Then you will tell me what you will do.”

“But what will I do in the mean time?”

“I will keep you occupied.” Zelda said with a half-smile. “Now go, return your bag to your room and go into town get some colorful paper.”

Link stared dumbfoundedas she walked around him and backtracked their steps. “W-wha-what for?”

“You are going to teach me how to fold cats.” The princess stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I love cats.”


	8. Artist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /aggressively updates this before my laptop runs out of battery
> 
> I blame Calvin for dropping cute unexpected headcanons in my askbox damn you dAMN YOu
> 
> There isn't much to say, except that I have finally updated this ahoy! There's another one to come, it's kinda ready, needs some editing and the usual stuff. In the meantime, have this!
> 
> Enjoy!!

* * *

  **Artist**

* * *

It had been way over months since they had wedded and Link had officially moved to the castle, but he had yet to unpack his things. His chest was lying forgotten by the closet door, gathering dust and occupying space, filled with some personal items he brought from his little village, but had not touched since he arrived. Zelda only accepted to perform such task on her own on her rare day off because it was only one chest that needed to be unpacked, and because Link ran off somewhere that morning in the company of the now teens of Ordon. She knew that if he were aware of what she was about to do, he would have stayed to help, but she knew the kids were coming and they hardly had any time to hang around together now that Link was a prince consort, so she let him have a moment with them.

Zelda used an old hairband she hardly ever touched to tie her hair up in a messy, loose bun, and discarded her pauldrons in order to move more freely and comfortably. The chest was an old one, probably older than herself, the lock was rusty and she had no key, but luckily her husband once taught her how to pick on locks with hairpins, a skill he learned during his quest when he found treasure chests by accident and had no means of opening them. It was hard to open and the hinges squeaked loudly, dust arose from the inside, reaching her nose and tickling it. The queen sneezed against the back of her hand twice and sniffled continuously. Perhaps she should have covered her face with a scarf as not to irritate her nose further and not trigger her dust allergy; it would only get worse in the dry summer weather.

There was not much inside the chest to be put away. His old tunic and Ordon garbs were neatly folded, undoubtedly Uli’s work, hiding underneath his worn out pair of gloves and arm guards. Link admitted to Zelda that, while he would not feel comfortable dressing fancily, he wanted to wear more than just his simple green tunic to give a good impression to the castle personnel and the Hyrulean populace. That is why she had asked the tailor to make him similar tunics of finer fabrics, and some others more of cotton so he could use when out riding. Needless to say, the latter were his tunics of choice for daily wear.

Many compasses were inside along with countless maps and other documents, an old pair of socks with a hole in one of them, framed pictures from the goats of the ranch – she recognized these as the ones he had on the wall of his home. Aside from all of that, she found some gemstones he mentioned he liked to collect, an extra wallet filled with rupees, a couple sticks of coal and a book closed with a thin leather strap. She separated the coal from everything else, especially his outfits, considered throwing away his socks, but thought better of it and decided to ask for his permission instead, so she placed them on top of his gloves. Zelda placed the gems and the wallet inside a smaller chest she owned, one with a key, so his belongings would be kept in a safer place. She would have his garbs washed and ironed, and would find a nice folder to keep all of his maps and annotations, as well as a box to keep all his compasses, and someone would have to hang his pictures on the wall. As for the book–

The strap fell open, letting stray papers fall on the carpet. Many illustrations, realistic ones, of cats, dogs, other animals, sceneries and places she had never seen were scattered before her in disarray. Too amazed by the quality of the drawings, Zelda ignored the ones on the floor and opened the book to see the talent Link was hiding. Many doodles of his friends were in the book, goats and cats were his favorite things to draw it seemed, pretty flowers and mountains, landscapes, all drawn in black coal, smudged where he was not careful and let his skin touch the paper. There were drawings of Midna as an imp, a few of her in her restored form, which she guessed he drew from memory, beings that were rumored to inhabit the coldest peaks of Hyrule, and a drawing of the late Zora queen, whom Zelda believed had already been executed by the time he arrived at Zora’s Domain.

The queen quickly ran a hand under her eye when the door opened and looked over her shoulder at the comer, only to find that it was her husband. Link seemed ready to ask just what she was doing, until he noticed the papers strewn before her and grew pale. Zelda quickly stood up on her feet and closed his sketchbook swiftly, an unreadable look on her face. “You never said you could draw so well.”

He gave her a slight shrug as answer, seeing as he had no proper reply. “It is nothing really.”

She quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. “My husband knows how to draw realistic pictures of cats and humans, and it is nothing really?”

“There are so many better artists out there.” He nearly winced when his wife scowled at his words. “Why should it–”

“You,” she stressed the word as she tossed him the sketchbook, which he caught easily, “are going to draw me.”

Link looked distressed for a split second as she made way for their bed. “I apologize, my love, but I could never do you justice.”

“I do not want justice.” Zelda replied with a huff as she ungracefully sat down onto the mattress. “I want a picture, and none of us are leaving until it is done.”

His wife held his gaze steadily until he sighed in defeat, and finally walked to retrieve one of the coal sticks lying on the floor. Link placed a chair across from her, got comfortable on it, and arranged his sketchbook on his bent right leg. “Could you pose for me?” She nodded quickly, that beautiful smile of hers forming on her face.

He started with her face, the soft curve of her jaw, her round chin, her small nose and arched eyebrows. Then came her eyes, ever so expressive, but always masking a storm, shining so beautifully as they looked at him, watched his hand work, his eyebrows pinch. Then her lips, curved and plump, free of any make up, and radiating. He wished she could grin more, show her teeth more, laugh out loud and snort if that was her thing. He wanted her to bare her teeth, growl at him, like he did when in the body of a wolf, pull her lips back and show her true anger, the true fire she hid beneath composed smiles and trained scowls. He was confident he could crack her shell as time passed.

Her brown hair was next, tied in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, so pretty, giving her the homely, motherly feel Uli possessed. Link wondered if they would have kids, when they would have kids, and how many of them would be running through the hallways someday. The tresses were messy at the top, locks that escaped the hairband and fell about her face, framing it ever so nicely, curled at the ends. He drew her ears, pointed like his, a sign that they were descendants of the great Goddess Hylia, and the chosen ones. Then her neck, long and slender, her birthmark, a dark brown, perfectly round spot, was drawn where her neck met her shoulder. Link drew the sleeves of her blue dress, a shade that complimented the color of her eyes; details were given to the delicate lace on the collaring that rested right on her collarbones.

Link spent some time to add more details, give texture to her hair and lips, more eyelashes, add some shading, and stress the slight dimples on her cheeks that appeared when she smiled. By the time he was finished with it, he lifted his head to find that his wife was no longer sitting on the bed, but was instead standing right beside him, watching him work so passionately on his drawing of her. There was that slight quirk on her lips again when he jumped on his seat in surprise, the book almost flying from his grip.

From behind, Zelda wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before focusing her eyes on the picture. “Want to know something?”

“Hmm?”

“You did not look up even once.” She let out a breathy laugh, fingers playing with the collar of his undershirt. “I believe that means you know me very well.”

“I do.” Link put his sketchbook on the floor and patted his lap, inviting her to sit with him, and she complied. “Do you like it?”

Her eyes closed at the feel of his hand caressing her waist, and fingers working to let her hair fall loose. “Very much. I want it framed,” she shook her head to rearrange her locks of hair, “and hung on a wall.”

He hummed in contemplation, tried not to twist her brown tresses to keep his hand occupied. “It is so rushed and unworthy.”

“It is perfect.” Zelda said stubbornly, fingers on his jaw, running over his smooth skin and tilting his face so she could capture his lips. “Just like you.” 


	9. Midnight Tunes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sleepy hey to all of you!
> 
> Lately, a neighbor has been playing their piano all day long, and sometimes I manage to hear bits of it. This is a little something I wrote when my thoughts diverged and I imagined Zelda playing the piano instead. She has a cockatiel here because I like the idea that she's allergic to cats (and Link forgets that and always shoves them in her face).
> 
> I always seem to make her allergic to something, don't I?
> 
> Eeennnnnjoy!

* * *

**Midnight Tunes**

* * *

It was slow and calm, the same old tune she hummed to herself at night while brushing her hair, sitting cross-legged on her bed, looking out the window at the city. A song her mother used to sing, and her grandmother, passed down in the family, a song made for babies to sleep to, soothing and moving, playing with her emotions until the hair of her arms stood on end and her eyes were blurry with unshed tears.

She hit another key and started the song over again, playing her piano by the living room window, she spied the lights bellow and the stars above, but her ears did not register the lingering car noises that echoed among the tall buildings of the capital. Her cockatiel was asleep, perched on her shoulder, face and beak tucked into its soft white feathers, partially hidden underneath her long brown hair. Sometimes, when it was awake, it would nibble on her earrings or necklace while she went over her papers or was in the kitchen preparing a warm meal to herself. It would take bites of her toasted bread when she was not looking, and would whistle little melodies when she was doing a bit of tidying around the apartment.

Other times, when she was alone, like now, but it was still day, it would sing along to the tune, her tune, as she hit white key after black key and over and over again, until she was fully relaxed or her fingers hurt too much to play anymore. It lived free in her apartment, no cage to hold it back as it flew around, but never escaped thanks to the thin nets placed over the windows.

The song started over once more, the ring on her finger, given by her father on her twentieth birthday, finally seemed to weight her hand down, but she refused to stop playing. She had not stopped thinking yet, there were still too many things in her mind, and sleeping would be impossible if she did not get rid of these thoughts. A siren rang from the streets, growing urgent as it neared her apartment and slowly getting fainter and slower as the car moved away, its wild red lights never reaching her eyes, so focused on the clouds that passed over the crescent moon.

Her doorbell rang. Her fingers froze, then fell to her lap as her gaze snapped towards her door. Her bird chirped sleepily, but did not lift its head, not even when her hair fully fell over its body, hiding it from the outside world.

It was far too late for anyone to be awake, but living in an apartment building had its downsides; some people might not just appreciate her playing and come to her door to ask her to stop. It would not be the first time. Her fingers fished for the key inside fruit bowl before she made way for the entrance, unlocking it and pulling it open to see who it was. Perhaps her face was not the brightest, but at the moment she could not bring herself to force a secret smile to bloom.

“H-Hey.” Her lips parted ever so slightly, because in her opinion, raising her eyebrows would be too rude, but a young man – no, a boy – stood outside her door, a bunch of wild flowers in his hands, and a shy, but big, grin on his face.

She tugged at her sleeping robes feeling too self-conscious. “Hello.”

He pressed his lips together, eyes glancing at everything but her face. “Sorry to disturb you so late at night.” The boy cleared his throat and found the courage to look her in the eyes. “I heard you playing. It’s beautiful.”

“Oh.” She straightened her stance and squared her shoulders. “That is nice of you. Thank you.”

“Here.” He shoved the flowers against her chest, and some bright orange petals tickled the underside of her nose. “I got these for you.”

Hands fell on the wrapping, feeling it crumple under her fingertips, the noise too loud in the dead silent of the night. “May I at least know you name before I take these?” She inquired, but still took the bouquet from his hands and placed it on the crook of her left elbow, fingers playing with a small bud.

He seemed to realize he had skipped an important part of this sudden meeting, cheeks instantly growing red under the light that came from her living room. “I’m Link.”

“Nice to meet you, Link.” And she offered him her free hand, that heavy silver band placed around her index fingers, nails done and painted a light shade of caramel. He took it, shook it firmly and felt her warmth, her weariness, and the softness of her touch. “I am Zelda.”

Link grinned, face now a faint pink. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

She pulled her hand away in favor to cradle the flowers more carefully, and studied his features. Now she recognized him; he lived in the apartment just across from hers, always spotted with a beanie covering his wild hair before leaving for work and when getting home. “Come to think of it,” she mused, a gentle frown on her brow, “are you not the one who owns five cats?”

His blush returned on full power, reaching all the way down to his neck and the tips of his ears. “Why, yes, I am. Why do you ask?”

“You tabby cat drops by often to try and whisk away mister Popcorn here.” When he did not seem to understand, Zelda pulled away the hair from her shoulder to reveal her pet cockatiel, still perched snuggly and sleeping soundly.

Now, she did not know if he was trying not to blush in embarrassment or anger, or if color was trying to be drained from his face. Link sputtered for a moment, searched for words to say, glanced between her bird and the way he had come from, thought of that cat in particular and now understood why it seemed to disappear for some hours every day. In the end, he settled for apologizing for the inconvenience and promised to watch it more carefully.

“The next time it happens, you come and fetch him.” He stopped mid sentence, mouth hanging open as she draped her long hair over her little pet and backed into her apartment. “Good night, Link.”

The door closed and was locked, and he snapped his mouth shut. Approaching her was not as hard as it sounded, and he believed he had just befriended someone else. 


	10. Take It Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /that Kesha song playing in the distance/
> 
> The headline reads: Twenty years old girl is too embarrassed to write "penis" in her smut fic. More on page 5
> 
> A prompt, among many others, that I got on my Zelda blog. After all these years, I still can't write smut, and still am too embarrassed to read some to learn l m a o
> 
> Also, for a guest who asked, Calvin happens to be another devoted TP Zelink shipper, my main source of ideas, forever bro, the one that spends hours talking about these two goobers with me. His current url on tumblr is

* * *

**Take It Off**

* * *

Link had been complaining for the past few days that she was not giving him enough attention, spending too much of her time swamped in paperwork. While that was true, in parts, her paperwork had been all due and done at least two weeks ago and Zelda had been busying herself with empty papers, mindless poetry and silly doodles to pass her time. It was all part of her plan, you see.

She sat on her chair by the fireplace, hair tied in a high lazy bun, sipping some wine and reviewing the grammar of one of her poems, waiting for him to arrive to their chambers. She would give him all the attention he was craving.

He arrived half an hour later, fingers pulling at the collar of his fancy outfit; being a king came with many things and some of them were stuffy clothes that made summer days more unbearable than they already were. Link closed the door, turned around, and spotted only the hand of his wife peeking out from behind her tall chair as he undid the first two buttons of his coat, lithe fingers holding with gentle grace the glass of wine. “Evening, love,” her voice was accompanied by the rustling of paper, and he sighed, knowing well what she was doing.

“Good evening, my love.” The king replied in an exhausted tone, as if the mere act of speaking drained him of his life force. Tired he was of being put after paperwork for so long, he only wanted her to embrace him for a minute and reassure he was still loved.

His boots squeaked on the clean marble floor, the sound disappearing once he stepped onto one of her many expensive carpets, and he walked around the table with a vase of red tulips, a bottle of wine and another glass for him. Link approached her slowly to give her a kiss and should have known something was off when he spotted her bare ankles and her feet clad in a pair of shoes she only wore on very _special_ occasions.

Zelda sat wearing nothing but a pair of lacy, semitransparent black lingerie. The hardened peaks of her breasts were easily seen from where he stood.

Breath caught, Link did a double take and took a step back when something twitched in his pants. Now that was a surprise.

“What’s the matter, love?” She inquired, standing from her seat and leaving her papers on the table as she strode in his direction. He almost backed away. “Have some wine.” The glass was in his hand in the following second, and Link downed its liquid without giving it a second thought, staring wide eyed at the fire as she moved to stand behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders, fingers light and teasing. “You seem so...” Her lips caressed the nape of his neck, brushed against his ear as she murmured sultrily. “Tense.”

Link felt like he could either let go of the glass or crush it in his hands due to the sudden wave of arousal that hit him, warmth spiraling from his groin and reaching his other body parts. Zelda kissed the crook of his neck while pouring him some more wine from behind, pressing her chest to his still covered back, and then filled the other glass on the table with more, catching it with her fingers before swaying her hips enticingly as she made way for their beds.

“Let’s play a game,” she said with a coy smile dancing on her lips, climbing onto the mattress with heels and all until she was placed right on the center. His pants immediately felt tighter, and he downed some more of the wine, eyes following the movement of her leg as it rubbed against and up the other until it was bent. “You do what I say.”

Her finger circled the rim of her pinot noir glass, teeth pulling slightly at her bottom lip as she regarded him. “Hmm...” Zelda tilted her head to the side, running her tongue over her lips, and Link almost threw himself on the floor, or at her feet, or at her. “Your shoes, coat and shirt. Off.”

“What is this?” He asked with a breathy laugh and placed the glass on the table. “A striptease show?”

“For it to be, you should be dancing.” She quirked an eyebrow. “Can you sway your hips, my king?”

A shiver ran down his spine as his feet kicked his shoes away. “Ah... I’m too shy for that, I’m afraid.”

Zelda watched him intently, blue eyes following his fingers as they worked their way down every button on the front of his coat, which slipped down his strong arms, falling as a heap behind him. Her gaze was hungry, lips pressed against the cool glass as her husband raised his arms above his head and took his linen undershirt off, exposing his muscles for her.

She moved to a kneeling position, extended her arm so he could take the wine away and crawled closer to the edge of the bed, sighing softly when his hands came to rest on the curve of her waist. Her painted nails grazed his sides lightly making him shiver, her thumb outlining the ripples on his stomach as her hands made their way up, weaving themselves into his hair as she pressed her chest into his. His lips were dangerously close to hers, just a mere breath away. “Take it off.”

“Hmm?” The hum was low, a grunt originating from within his throat, his nose hidden in her neck, smothering it with kisses.

Her mind was hazy already, but she was in enough control to trail her hands down his well-defined chest and meet his on her waist, and guide them down to her panties. “You heard me,” his thumbs hooked around the material, Link pulled away from her neck, breath heavy, lips parted, and blue eyes foggy with desire. “Take. It. Off.”

He captured her lips in one open-mouthed kiss, tracing her bottom lip with his tongue before plunging it into her mouth to meet with hers. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers digging into his back for more leverage, moaning into his mouth. “Not yet,” his hands released her hips and grabbed her shoulders instead, pushing her down on her back on the mattress instead and lying between her legs.

Zelda was panting, face and bosom flushed red with want. “I thought I was the one in command?”

Link supported most of his weight on his forearms, his groin so very close to hers. “You can command the kingdom, my queen,” he whispered in her ear, lips nibbling at her lobe, pulling gently at the skin. She moaned, lifted her hips to rub herself against him, earning a lustful sigh as answer. “But this evening, let me be in charge.” Despite her smile, a noise left her, a mix between a moan and an annoyed whine as she shifted beneath him trying to feel as much of her husband as possible. His hand griped her hips to hold them down and she jolted at the contact, “Shh, be patient, my love.”

It was easy for him to say. He, too, wanted to get that over with as soon as possible. His erection twitched impatiently in his pants, but he would rather live the moment than rush it. Link took her mouth in a slow, passionate kiss, palms wandering around her body until they found the clasp of her bra and undid it, throwing it to the side. He squeezed the soft mounds of flesh, taking one of them into his mouth and sucking hard, teasing the hard nipple with the tip of his tongue.

She was once again moving, pressing her chest, her hips, every bit of her body that she could against his, sighing, moaning, asking that he please, _please_ – “I think this is enough,” he said from around the other nipple, and Zelda gasped in delight, pulling at his hair.

“Finally!” He took the hint and kissed her again, now in an awkward position as he moved both of her legs to one side so he could take out the last piece remaining of her underwear. It slid off her legs with ease and he teased her a little more, caressing her inner thighs with feather light touches, until he decided to dip his fingers into her wet lower lips and she purred happily into his mouth, melting into his touch.

His hands left her for enough time so he could take his own pants and underwear off, and leave them on the floor before he climbed onto the bed with her, smiling as she opened her arms in invitation. “Just one moment, Zel.” He took his erection in his hand and guided it to the opening between her parted legs, thrusting in effortlessly, feeling her warmth embrace him.

Link was moving slowly, and she was moving her hips in time, placing sloppy kisses on his shoulders, necks and collarbones, scratching her nails on his back because she knew he loved the sensation and it made him go faster without knowing. Zelda knew all the tricks, nail scratching, biting his ear lobe, whispering dirty things and being responsive were just some that got him to move, that made her husband rock his hips and made her see stars.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, swollen lips left a mark on his tan skin before they were claimed again by his in a kiss that left her breathless. Zelda had little time to catch her breath thanks to his pace. Panting as she was, and moans coming one right after the other without pause, the queen could only grip the sheets of their bed as the king focused his attention on her breasts and drove her over the edge.

After a deep thrust, her body tensed up and all the pleasure was released in one wave, washing over her and making her insides clamp around his member. Link thrust into her faster and deeper as she moaned and bit into her knuckles, and as she approached the end of her climax, he erupted inside her, vision going white and her name tumbling out his lips in one long grunt.

Zelda touched his face, brushed the sweaty hair out his closed eyelids as both of them tried to catch their breath and craned her head up to place a kiss on his forehead. “Perhaps I should start giving my paperwork a bit more of attention. What do you think?”

Link sighed and lowered his body to hers, holding back as much of his weight as he could and resting his head between her breasts. “I don’t approve of it,” he replied in an already sleepy voice, then tried to look up at her, “but I liked the surprise.”

She giggled and kissed the top of his head, arms wrapped around his form. “I figured as much.” 


End file.
